Waving hello from the one little corner of Florida that wasn’t blown apart by Hurricane Irma, and back with another entry in my 31-week blog challenge. This week’s prompt is to share an old picture of me. My options are limited because most of the old picture of me aren’t in digital format, and I don’t have access to a scanner, so you’re going to get what you get this week.
I’ve shared this photo before. It was probably taken in 1960 judging from the size of my little brother, who is sitting on my mom’s lap. That puts me at around 5 3/4 years old. (I would have turned 6 in just a couple of months, I’m guessing.) We were sitting on the couch in my Grandmother and Grand-dad Carter’s living room–a tiny house with just 3 rooms: living room, bedroom and kitchen. Sorry, I don’t have a picture of the outhouse. It just occurred to me that Grandmother was still alive when this picture was taken. She passed away in 1963.
Anyone who knows me knows that I’m WAY too long-winded to think this is a respectable blog post, so I guess I’ll just have to share another old family photo.
This picture had to be taken the summer after the first photo, which has me aiming straight for 7 years old. I’m pretty sure my mom sewed the shorts I’m wearing. Not sure about the top. If memory serves, that blouse had tiny little pearl buttons all the way up the front and I thought it was so beautiful! This is one of my favorite picture, probably because my parents created such a wonderland in our backyard. I loved everything about that yard. It was an absolute haven for me.
Here I am with my sister, probably somewhere around 1970 or 1971. I’m quite sure I was in high school at this point, but I’m also sure I hadn’t yet graduated. I look at that fresh face, the endless possibilities reflected in my eyes, and I realize the truth of that old saying, “Youth is wasted on the young.” I can see why people sometimes think, If only I could go back, knowing what I know now. But what I know how is that the years between then and now were difficult and often painful, and even though there were also good times, I wouldn’t want to go back. If I could give the young woman in this picture advice, I probably wouldn’t. As my daughter pointed out to me one day, it’s the experiences this young woman had without warning and preparation that made her into who she is today. If I were to warn her about what’s coming or give her advice I didn’t have at that age, I wouldn’t be who I am today.
November 1973 — age 19. My wedding day. Yeah, the wedding was just that awesome. It’s a long, and often painful story, but I sometimes wonder if our marriage might have had a chance of succeeding it it had started out differently. It really wasn’t given a fair shake by anyone, including Leon and me. But that’s one thing I’ll never know the answer to–unless, of course, it’s possible to travel to an alternate universe.
Here my sister and I are again, this time two years ago. I was blessed with the chance to go home to Utah for my mom’s 90th birthday. This was taken on our “Sister Day,” which was fabulous!
I know what you’re thinking–Wow! They haven’t changed a bit!. And you’re so right!
I guess that’s it for this post. I’ll be back next week to answer the burning question: Piercings and Tattoos?